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My wife, Katelyn, and I decided to take two weeks this summer to learn more about immigration and border issues by visiting key areas along the US-Mexico border. The three key places we visited were Casa Del Migrante in Tijuana, Mexico, Neighborhood Ministries in Phoenix, and the desert outside of Tucson, AZ.

Tijuana, Mexico

After a 3-day drive across the country, meeting some great friends and encouragement along the way, we drove to the border in San Ysidro, CA, parked our car, and walked across the border to Mexico. We didn’t stand in any line – just went through a building, and some guards waved us through without

checking any bags, passports, or anything at all. We took a taxi to Casa Del Migrante, a Catholic migrant shelter. Gilberto Martinez and Father Pat greeted us, and immediately brought us to their office to ask us about our journey. We told them that we came to learn more about immigration, both in the US and Mexico. He shared with us a little about the shelter.

It was started in the 1980’s, when it was a shelter for people who were migrating from Mexico or Central America to Tijuana or to the United States for work. But since the immigration laws in the US have become more harsh toward immigrants in the past eight years, now 90% of residents at the shelter are there because they had been deported from the US. We had dinner with some of the men who were staying there. One guy we were sitting with said he came to the US when he was two years old and has never been to Mexico since. He was extremely bewildered and didn’t know what he was going to do next. He was arrested for having too many traffic violations, then the authorities found out he’s undocumented, put him in an ICE center, and deported him. The other guy we talked to had a 13 yr-old daughter and was trying to decide whether or not to try to go back to the US – he knew that if he was caught he’d face extremely punishment, but he hated the idea of his daughter growing up without her dad.

There was also a group from Intervarsity Christian Fellowship at the shelter, a college ministry that I was actually involved in at University of Richmond. They were doing an urban project in partnership with their Mexican counterpart, Compa. They invited us to debrief with them, Gilberto, and Fr. Pat after dinner. And we found that many of the other stories of the migrants were very similar – they were arrested for petty crimes, found to be undocumented, and deported. Most of them were completely unfamiliar with Mexico. Some didn’t even speak Spanish. Some had all their family in the US, and no family or friends in Mexico. Destroying lives and destroying families is the norm when people get deported. Gilberto said that at the shelter they do many services, including family reunification, which he described as a “nightmare.” If someone is deported and his or her child has no family to stay with, that child goes into the foster care system. If the parent (who has just been deported) does not find that child within three months, the child can be adopted. Once the child is adopted the rights are with the adoptive parents and it is incredibly difficult to get the child back. And of course, not everyone who is deported has a lawyer to help reunite them with their children. Read more about this phenomenon here.

Phoenix, AZ

Whereas getting into Mexico took about three minutes, getting through security into the US took about 2 hours. After we left, we jumped in the ocean in San Diego real quickly and then made our way to Phoenix to visit the community at Neighborhood Ministries.

We were welcomed by Susan Leon, director of “Mom’s Place”, a ministry for young moms. Susan’s house is also a hangout for many teens in the neighborhood. We had a great time hearing from Susan about her journey with NM. The following night we hung out with some fun teenage girls who live in the neighborhood. Susan is a fantastic cook – we ate like a queen and king, things like a frittatta, pancakes, and grilled chicken.

On our way to Tijuana, we had stopped in Albuquerque to spend some time with Father Richard Rohr. He shared with us three ways of engagement with people who are marginalized: 1) direct service, 2) advocacy, and 3) education. Neighborhood Ministries embodies all three of these ways of engagement. And the axis around which all of them are connected is relationships and community. They have many hands-on, direct service ministries, such as a health care clinic, multiple businesses that employ people in the neighborhood, a community garden, and fun events for kids. They also do the second form of engagement – advocacy – by having a designated arm of the ministry for social justice and working for policy change. We hung out with Ricardo and Alfonso (see an article featuring him in Christianity Today) and some of the other activists who are housed within the ministry. They were passionate about justice, and passionate about Jesus. It was encouraging to hear them tell of how even the politicians who are adamantly in support of harsh immigration laws begin to change their minds when they look at Scripture’s call to welcome the stranger. It was just another reminder that sometimes people just need to read their Bibles. The third way of engagement – education – is done partly through advocacy, but also through Kit Danley (the founder) and others in the ministry who write and speak around the country about immigration and Christian witness. Not only this, but the community itself is a witness that may educate more than any article or talk. I was pretty convinced after meeting with Kit that we need more places that bring all three of these ways together on the basis of relationships and community. Especially where people indigenous to the community are the foundational voices. Kit told us herself, “Don’t ever do activism without relationships.” She said we’ll burnout, sellout, or simply become ineffective.

Most of all, we were blessed to be able to worship at Neighborhood Ministries. The church is at the center of the life of the community. It was refreshing and exciting to see worship connected with mission in this way.

Kit told us we should also visit the Heard Museum, the US’s largest museum for American Indians. It was a reminder that there’s a connection between our country’s formation and its current state with immigration. Although our country was founded on the principles of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, there were certain people (namely, natives and slaves) who weren’t considered by the so-called “founding fathers”.

Tucson, AZ

After two nights and two days in Phoenix, we left for Tucson, AZ to go on a day-trip into the dessert with Los Samaritanos (The Samaritans), a ministry that brings health aid, water, and food to migrants who are crossing through the desert. Every year about 200 migrants die in the desert trying to cross into the US.

Katelyn and I arrived at Southside Presbyterian Church at 7am, and met Consuelo Crow, who was the leader taking us into the desert. She is an anthropologist who studies the material relationship between migrants, humanitarians, and border control. She blogs at mexmigration.blogspot.com. This summer, she has spent 6 days a week for the past six weeks in the Arizona desert looking for migrants and assisting them. She also does research in communities in Mexico, and as any anthropologist, deep immersion in the communities is essential to her work. She lives in Arivaca, a border town, where she has met a number of migrants.

We spent six hours driving and walking through the desert, looking for migrants. We found many traces, such as water bottles (one which Consuelo told us had water in it from a cow well – she knew this because of the chunky stuff that was in it), backpacks, shoes, and clothing. We didn’t see any groups of migrants, but as we drove with Consuelo, she told us stories about what she has seen in the desert since she’s been going out with Los Samaritanos. Here are a few examples:

Dead bodies: Consuelo told of one incident when she was sitting over a dead body for an hour trying to get a border patrol agent to come and do something with it. She said that border patrol prioritizes groups of migrants over individuals because the more migrants they catch, the faster they advance in rank. In other words a dead individual was less important to them because she or he was alone and dead. Consuelo said she stayed next to the person to make sure that animals didn’t destroy the body. She told another story of a woman’s body found, with crawl marks where her hands were in the ground. Another finding was a child who had been found sitting next to her dead

Violence and Rape: When a person from Central America or Mexico wants to come to the US, she or he (or a family member) pays a Coyote, a person who smuggles people into the US, to bring them across. The Coyotes charge up to $4,000. In fact, people smuggling has become a booming industry, including also the sale of dark backpacks and water bottles. The Coyote, who usually gets most of the money, doesn’t usually bring the group of migrants across – this is done by a “Guia”. Consuelo told us that most of the time, before they leave, the guia makes the women take contraceptives because it is almost definite that the women will be raped on the journey, either by the guia, or by other migrants. In the desert, you can find “rape trees” where women’s underwear is hung from a tree as a trophy for the man who raped her. They also make the travelers take speed pills so that they’ll keep up with the group. Imagine walking through the hot Arizona dessert, water-deprived, food-deprived, and having your heart racing because you’re on speed pills. Many people die of heart attacks.

The violence and rape doesn’t just exist within the group – border patrol has very little accountability, and can therefore treat migrants in the most inhumane ways. Consuelo talked to a women in Mexico who showed her gashes across her stomach because a border patrol agent dragged her by her hair across the desert. Sometimes the border patrol agents even work with the Coyotes. Here’s one example of an agent found with a truck-full of marijuana. Here’s a whole list of offenses, everything from small bribes to sexual assault and murder. Sadly this is a perfect recipe for sex slavery, because the women have no identity in the US, border patrol has no accountability, and if a women is sold into sex slavery, no one would know about it.

I think it’s useful to imagine that you’re a migrant. You and your family

are in extreme poverty, and you hear that there’s work in the US. Out of desperation, and to save the life of your family, you explore how you might get to the US. You hear that you must pay a Coyote, and it’s fine, they’re experienced, and they will certainly get you across. You raise money in your community to pay them. But then when you are on the journey you realize that the Coyote, or Guia, doesn’t care about you, but rather cares about the money. If you’re a woman, the Guia rapes you. You didn’t bring enough food and water on the journey. The Guia deserts you, then as you’re trying to find your way without the Guia, a border patrol agent finds you, calls you a whore and a host of racial slurs, sexually assaults you, and throws you violently into a truck. You go into court where you continue to be treated like the scum of the earth, then you’re sent to a part of Mexico you’ve never been to.

Desperation: Many of the migrants turn themselves in to border patrol. We asked Consuelo if she ever has given a ride to migrants to bring them to safety. She said, “I won’t answer that question, but I will say you can get 15 years in prison for riding in the same vehicle with someone who you know is undocumented.” That sounds familiar. She has often seen completely delirious migrants standing by the side of the road who haven’t had food or water in days, and they simply want to be turned in to border patrol. She often does this because it’s the only way to save their lives.

Laws and Policies: Border patrol uses a policy of “Prevention by Deterrence,” which, in its statement is described such: “The prediction is that with traditional entry and smuggling routes disrupted, illegal traffic will be deterred, or forced over more hostile terrain, less suited for crossing and more suited for enforcement.” What has happened, however, is that the more hostile terrain has not prevented more people from crossing illegally, but has rather resulted in more death. Consuelo has heard border patrol agents use the term “deterrence by death.” Another policy that was shocking was deporting migrant families separately from each other – a husband would be dropped off in one part of Mexico and a wife would be dropped off in another. The hope is that by doing so, it will teach them a lesson and they won’t come back. The fence was also a strange fixture – climbing it only takes 20 seconds. Then there’s always the option of just walking around it. Seems that it’s more for the US’s peace of mind than actually preventing people from entering the country illegally.

How do we respond to this? It’s easy to begin thinking about who’s to blame or thinking about what kind of policy change needs to happen. I think those questions are important. But I wanted to first think about the people. Being in the desert and hearing these stories was like Hell. I can’t imagine being in such a desperate situation that I’m willing to put my life in the hands of Coyotes, Border Patrol, and the Arizona desert. When hearing about the smuggling industry, some jump and say that all immigrants are criminals, but most of the time they’re victims of some of the worst criminal activity. It’s also easy to think that all border patrol agents are hyper-masculine, violent racists, but many of them, as Consuelo reported, have compassion for the migrants. Or, they’re just people looking for a job. In a country where the best option for people who don’t go to a four year college is national security, this is where many of our young people find a way to feed their family. I think that reflecting first on people reminds me that the whole system of laws and policies is broken. It’s not a problem with “those people,” but rather a problem with the assumption that violence, exclusion, and greed is how we protect ourselves (whether we are a US lawmaker, US citizen, Coyote, or immigrant). I’m interested in exploring more what kind of policy changes would be helpful, such as creating more work visas (like we did before) for immigrants, or changing

our trade policies with Mexico so that we’re not dominating the markets that Mexican farmers depended on, or focusing our enforcement on the criminal activity of smugglers, rather than the immigrants themselves. But before I think as a US citizen, I want to think as a Christian, and as a Christian the main thing I feel is compassion for people who are going through such

We went to a coffee shop when we got back to Tucson to reflect a bit. I was drained – physically, emotionally, and spiritually overwhelmed. As we got in our car we began thinking about what this means for our own lives. It is certainly not disconnected from North Carolina. In fact the people from the Samaritans said that some migrants say, “I’m going to North Carolina.”

Waking Up

There was something else going on in our country the Saturday evening when we got home from our trip. But I had a sermon to preach the next day, so I wasn’t aware of it. We unpacked our bags, ate some dinner, and went to bed early. I woke up and got ready early, went to church, and preached. But when I was in church I still didn’t hear about that other thing that was going on.

When I got home from church, I found out that the jury found George Zimmerman neither guilty of manslaughter nor murder. He was not guilty. A neighborhood watch captain hunted down

an unarmed black boy because he “looked suspicious,” and murdered him – legally. We live in a country where people are being violently and hatefully excluded and punished because they are (or look) “illegal” for trying to provide for their families, and where a man who shoots and kills a teenager is acquitted, and many people are actually celebrating because everything he was doing was “legal.”

I am embarrassed that I wasn’t following the Trayvon Martin case more closely. I wish I looked at the news Sunday morning so that I could acknowledge it to my community of brothers and sisters in Christ when I preached Sunday Morning. But my failure to see that points to the slumber of white America. White privilege is a reality. And it’s this: these kind of things don’t have to affect us white people if we don’t want them to. All we have to do is create a law that keeps immigrants away, keeps black people out of white neighborhoods, and keeps us protected when we use violence to keep things the way things are.

I think the confusion about Zimmerman’s race is important. It sheds more light on what race actually is in the US. It’s generally known that the concept of race has no genetic basis and is a social construct, and I think the Zimmerman trial shows what this looks like in actuality. Whiteness in the US is an achievement. There was a point in our country’s history when Jews were not white, when Irish people were not white, and when Italians were not white. They were seen as the dirty, inferior caste, until they proved that they could look like the ideal the US has created of the pure, innocent, moral superior person. Once they did, they became white. One of my professors from Divinity School, Willie Jennings, describes it as a spectrum. On one end is blackness, and at the founding of our country Native American and African slaves, who were considered uncivilized savages – partial people closer to animals than humans – were at that end. On the other end were the European Colonists. From that point on, gaining legitimacy and acceptance in society, whether you were a native, a slave, or an immigrant, meant striving to make it up the spectrum toward whiteness. Zimmerman is a victim to US’s ideal of whiteness. He believed in the dream of gated communities, proactive violence as self-defense, and disparaging not only African Americans, but also Mexicans, as inferior. Probably one of the best analyses of the Zimmerman trial I’ve seen that gets at the heart of our racialized society is this one here by Brian Bantum.

Being at the border – the frontlines of immigration – reflecting on the connection with American Indians, and coming home to hearing that a black teenager was murdered without any consequences for the murderer was a cutting reminder that we are by no means in a post-racial society. It’s all connected, and it’s very broken. As a white person, I feel like I’m always waking up and I’m never fully awake. I thought I had woken up because of my awareness of the challenge of immigration, but because I’m not black, I didn’t find it urgent to hear about the Zimmerman trial. And so I wasn’t able to name the wrong to my church, the community that should be lamenting the most.

And so I want to end this reflection with a Scripture verse. I believe that Jesus Christ gives us the ability to see the way that he sees as one who was fully human, and who fully bore the pain of all humanity, and one who was fully God and was able to see this world with divine eyes. We need him to help us see so badly. It’s urgent, but it’s a journey, because as much as I think that I’m seeing, there’s still another level of clarity that I realize I need to gain.

“They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, “Do you see anything?” He looked up and said, “I see people; they look like trees walking around.” Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.” – Mark 8:22-25

Hey Everyone!
The Menders are honored to lead worship at The Duke Divinity School Center for Reconciliation’s annual Summer Institute. The conference is a gathering of leaders and activists from around the world for an intensive retreat and journey through the cycle of Reconciliation. We will be posting our set lists each day, as well as some reflections on the different themes. We

Imagine that you are a musician and a small but popular theatre performance company in Great Britain wants to hire you to work for them full time. They promise you two years of guaranteed employment with them and directly after you finish you would be hired by their parent company to work full time. This seems like great work and the perfect opportunity for you to do what you love and expand your platform as well as an opportunity for you and your family to start life in a wonderful country. You discuss the terms and conditions with the company and they sound good. Upon the approval of a two-year temporary visa, the company will pay for your living expenses in exchange for your work. In addition, you will get a set amount every month to use for groceries and other things you and your family may need.

Soon after the company brings you and your family of four over from the United States to Great Britain since you cannot afford it. Being a musician has been rewarding but has also been a struggle. You are not wealthy so a guaranteed contract and fresh opportunity for you and your family sound great. You begin working for them and love it. Your family loves it in Great Britain and all is well.

After a few months of working with the company you realize that they do not have as much money to give you as they promised you. They take care of the basics but the other needs of your family are taken care of sparsely. You did not sign a contract with them because the contact for the company is a family friend and you agreed to move and work based on his word alone.

—

Your two year employment had its high and low financial moments but you made it through! You are ready to work for their parent company and upon a renewal of your visa, you can begin work immediately. But the visa is taking longer than expected. You applied for it half a year out just in case it would take that long. I did not take that long the first time so you imagine that six months ahead of time should yield a response. But it doesn’t.

time, half a year before your contract ends with the small company, they agree to raise support in case your visa takes longer than expected. It will be transition money for about three months or so. This sounds good as you should have certainly heard back from the government before then, so you agree to it.

before your contract with the small company expires and you have heard nothing about your visa. Then it is two weeks. One week. You hear from the government. They inform you that it will take another four to six weeks before they can process your paperwork. They do have some good news that as someone affiliated with the arts, your paperwork should be approved as soon as they get to it. But you do not have four to six weeks. You do not have that time because your visa is expired. The small company only raise one-tenth of what they promised you. It is not even enough to cover the impending month’s rent.

You cannot legally work anywhere and no temporary work license or visas are available as options to you.

You cannot drive anywhere. You had a temporary driver’s license but if you are caught by the police (who can seem intent about catching people like you), you will be arrested and deported back to America. Going back to America is not an option. You sold everything you had for you and your family to come to Great Britain for a new life.

Now you have rent to pay on your own now and utilities, you have groceries that you need to buy and your baby needs diapers. You have needs but no income.

—

With the help of churches and friends you have made since being in Great Britain you get all of your expenses covered for the month! But the government hasn’t gotten back with you yet about an update. Next month’s rent and bills are approaching soon.

By the grace of God through the generosity and kindness of friends, churches, and strangers your family is able to make rent payments for the next six months. All the utilities are not always paid so just before they are shut off, a little bit of money comes in from someone to help. It is just enough to keep the lights on or buy groceries for the week.

But this entire process has been taxing. The government keeps pushing back the date of your visa decision. Even when they presented your new boss with the impossible task of proving that he had your first year’s salary ready in only two weeks, they still have not delivered any news to you. Your boss raised the remaining funds needed and yet two months afterward the only contact made was “It will take another four to six weeks.”

You are tired. You are helpless and at the mercy of the British government to determine whether you can stay in Great Britain and work or whether you will be deported to America to find a life that currently is not there for you and your family. You have nothing to go back to in America. Great Britain is your only option – unless the government states otherwise.

it? Did you imagine the scenario? Isn’t it difficult to get your head around?

—

Can you imagine what this feels like?

I can’t imagine. I literally cannot. And I think that this is something to consider. I think the fact that I cannot imagine this for my own life says something about my status. I have not had to imagine because I was fortunate enough to be an immigrant at the right time. For many Christians who are and who are not immigrants, this is hard to imagine because this level of hardship and difficultly is not on our radars.

Two years ago this was not on my radar until during a summer reconciliation conference held at Duke Divinity School called the Summer Institute. The band that I am in, Menders, was leading worship and a vibrant young man named Rene Lopez came up to us afterwards. He expressed his love for worship music and reconciliation and from that moment on became important to the life of the band.

Rene has shown me that reconciliation is so much deeper than a musical offering to God. Reconciliation and worship happens in how we treat people, who we notice, and who we choose to continue not noticing or helping. Through our friendship I have seen that music is invaluable in helping lead people into God’s presence, but so are relationships, because when the music stops, the only thing we can do is be church together.

family, my family. When I first met him two years ago, his situation as a minister working for a church was rough but manageable. But now after finishing with that ministry, Rene and his family are in limbo. For the past eight months they have relied on donations alone to meet their basic needs. And until they get word from the U.S. government about their visa status, they cannot work. He has been a minister for over fifteen years and has work ready for him to minister to children in the urban context. He is ready and willing to work to provide for his family, but legally and literally cannot. As a Mexican in America, given the recent controversy around immigration, I wish I could say that the hardship Rene and his family are facing is an isolated incident but I am afraid it is not.

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So what does immigration have to do with worship music? Everything! If worship helps us connect to God, then connecting to the body of Christ in multiple ways can and should be the joy of the church!

Worship music helped Rene find Menders and within a conference on reconciliation, some lasting friendships. But I would even go further and say that worship music helped me find out where God was calling me to be ministered to, in an unlikely and invaluable friendship.

Rene’s presence proves that worship music has the power to connect people from all walks of life and bring new relationships to our attention. And even more, worship music can do the work of calling God’s children to respond to the needs of others – those within and outside of our typical circles. Rene and his family are intentional about being siblings in Christ and beacons of light to all people, not just their own people. And this is admirable as the immigration situation in this country forces many to live otherwise, close-together with their own, trying to find out ways to help one another. This is a tough way to live, and I don’t blame communities that form and live this way for doing so. It is critical to surviving. My parents did it; in many ways, it is the easiest way to get through the difficulties of American life.

The presence of Rene and his family is absolutely a witness to the possibilities of the church, I am positive that I still have a lot to learn from the ministry that is simply their presence. And I hope that their presence and ministry in America will continue; please pray with me for it to be so.

Rene and his family would love your thoughts and prayers as they still await word from the government. Until they get word, they would also love contribution that you can give towards meeting rent and utility needs. You can give HERE if you feel compelled to. And if you would like to learn more about Rene, you can read more about him here.

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I ask for your prayers, thoughts and gifts to help a wonderful family continue to be examples of love and grace, pure joy and peace to those of us who need it but did not know or imagine that it could come from such an unexpected place.

Until I moved to Durham, NC in the summer of 2005, I had spent my entire church life in the Korean American Church. I grew up going to church, and had an amazing youth pastor and youth group during my high school years. One thing that made this experience so great was the deep spirituality, and the easy familiarity of being in

fellowship with people that were pretty much like me, 2nd generation Korean-Americans. I went on to stay in Asian-American mono-ethnic ministries throughout college and grad school. I even met my wife in this context, So I will always thank God for putting me there!

When we landed in Durham, we felt like God was calling us to see things from a different setting, and we spent the next several years at a wonderful church that a sociologist could technically classify as being mono-ethnically white. The contrast of going from one mono-ethnic church to another mono-ethnic church, but of a different ethnicity, was a deeply formative chapter in my faith. To see how one faith can inspire so many different expressions – both harmonious and discordant – is a serious head scratcher of a quandary.

This puzzle is one reason why I am so thankful to be in the Menders family. We are a group of people, from radically different backgrounds, that have covenanted to stick with

press on in following him, I have to learn how to be at peace with going beyond my comfort zone. After all, Jesus did the ultimate cross-cultural ministry experience – crossing the dividing line between Creator and Created. If I can’t follow him past just a few racial, ethnic, or socio-economic lines, then how faithfully can I really follow after him?

I could have never imagined that I would be a part of a worship band. After college, my path in life was clear in the field of music therapy with children and adults with disabilities. I had a successful practice and was beginning to publish some research, when a holy interruption came three years ago.

I was invited to lead worship at the Duke Divinity Center for Reconciliation Summer Institute in 2011. I am positive that I must have been the last person they called because I had no credentials besides the

academics and practitioners, the worship services were to reflect each voice from the different parts of the world. Eager and much afraid, I decided to take on the challenge, but I knew that my narrow scope of worship practices would not cover the diversity of the participants. I called up some friends of mine, and together we forged our way through the week.

What we didn’t know was that the Lord had plans for us to continue down the path of what it meant to journey together in facilitating worship experiences along the lines of reconciliation. We continue to discover the degree to which worship serves as the very content to facilitate reconciliation and to break down the walls that divide us. We also realized that as a band these areas would be exposed within our collaborative process. As the band leader and facilitator, I knew that it would take time before all of us felt equal at the table. It took nearly two years for some of us to be awakened to our own voice and to take ownership as an equal partner in our family. I like to think of it as a microcosm of what the work of reconciliation may look like.

We have learned much and still have much to learn, but as a Rwandan proverb states, “If you want to go fast, walk alone. But if you want to go far, walk together.”

name always beats me to it. My accent never betrays me though as I’ve been in the U.S. too long to have anything other than an American accent! This is fundamentally who I am – a Nigerian-American woman who has the amazing privilege of being a Christian.

I may seem odd for this, but my faith came after connecting to my ethnic identity. I am a Nigerian-American Christian. I don’t really take to the idea that we are all Christians first – this may be true for many, but for my reality’s sake, I claim the opposite. And it is okay for me to have a stake in this claim, because for me, they live together anyway. And my identity is important because my faith works in it every day.

My faith works with me to navigate what it means to be a Nigerian-American, to be a Christian, to be a Nigerian-American Christian who grew up in African American churches and now attends a predominantly white Presbyterian church who would love nothing more than to live into the original intention of the church. You know, the whole “there-is-no-Jew-and-no-Gentile-in-Christ” thing.

This is my reality. I am a part of the church exactly as I am and try to figure out how I can live in that church faithfully. I learn from faith and my church experience and glean all that I can from them. But I also recognize that there are deep voids in the church. Sinful ones. And many of these voids I have no chance of impacting or changing – but some of them I do! We do! I believe that there are paths of brokenness that

can be erased – but it takes everyone in the church confessing that they have walked down a worn, beaten path for too long. The church continues down a treacherous path when keeps “others” out of their church or huddles around people “like them” in and

through church – majority and minority alike. I too have done this and hope to join the body of Christ in seeing that there is another path, a path already forged in discipleship and resurrection.

For me, recognizing the resurrection is the power behind reconciliation. I want to recognize possibility through the church. My prayer is to have the imagination to recognize the possibility that Jesus has made available to the church to actually be and not just do church.

This is what makes me a Mender. I believe in investing in the “what-ifs.” I hope to help the church recognize that it has resurrection potential, resurrection possibility. But with such a large goal, it seems impossible to know where to start, so I suggest picking a specific vehicle for reconciliation.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

Jeremiah 29:11

I am a Mender.

Stevie Wonder. Bishop Hezekiah Walker and LFC. The Clark Sisters. Justin Timberlake. PJ Morton. Pastor John P. Kee. Jesus. I’m musically inspired to talk about life, faith and Jesus, and the aforementioned people played a major part in my musical formation from my childhood to, now as a young adult, worship leader, servant, songwriter and worshipper.

I am originally from Fayetteville, North Carolina and I grew up in a Christian home where my grandparents raised me. I attribute most of my spiritual formation to my grandmother, the late Mother Joyce A. Bryant. I grew up in the Church of God (Cleveland, TN), where in the four walls of East Russell Street Church of God and North Ramsey Street Church of God, I learned what music was and how it mattered to me as a Christian.

I am a part of Menders because I believe that what we do: the worship, the reconciliation, the journey, the music

Where I am in Christ and life, as a 27 year old man, is not where I thought I’d be. Currently, I am getting to know God more and more. After receiving a seminary education at Duke Divinity School, my passion for music was renewed. The summer after graduating from seminary, I found out about a music internship through a fellow classmate. The internship was hosted by Making a Melody, LLC and East End

Fellowship Church out of Richmond, VA. I had been praying for an opportunity like this because I was serious about pursuing music as a profession. During this summer long internship, my passion for music, songwriting and producing were re-ignited. Appropriately called the “Urban Congregational Songwriting Internship,” that internship (in the summer of

2011), also challenged me to think more about other types of music outside of Gospel and Christian contemporary.

I grew up on many types of music including Gospel, Classical, Jazz, R&B, Hip-Hop to name most. Could a Christian be a faithful witness while singing other genres/styles of music outside of Gospel/CCM (Christian Contemporary Music)? Could a Christian do both “Christian-based” music and “secular” music?

Because I grew up in a household that listened to all types of music namely Soul/R&B, Jazz, Country and Gospel, I did not see a separation between the “secular” and “sacred music,” until I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior, and threw all of my R&B CDs away. I had heard somewhere in my church and early-Christian walk, that listening to “secular” music was unacceptable. This was all reversed when I graduated from seminary, and saw “worship” music in a broader sense.

Worship music did not just include the worship songs we sang on Sunday morning, in church services or on the gospel radio station. Worship included songs about life, love, relationships and commentary about societal issues plaguing our world and communities today. My viewpoint about worship and “worship” music definitely goes against the “sacred-secular” divide, as well as pushes to re-define what music is and how it is to be used. I am no less “saved.” Nor am I a Christian who is straddling the fence.

Being a part of Menders challenges me to re-think worship altogether and what it looks like to different people, from different backgrounds

I joined Menders because of Harold’s cooking. Just kidding. But for real, Harold can cook. And I think that the frequency and quality of Harold’s cooking is a clear sign of God’s grace and mercy. And in a sense I became part of Menders because of meals.

Before I became a Christian, in my grammar school years, I wanted to be a rock star. A child of the ‘90’s, I remember singing the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Today” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on the karaoke stage at the town fair when I was eight years old. As I got older, I learned how to play the guitar and started writing songs, and by the time I was twelve years old, I was learning, writing and recording music from the time I came home until I went to bed (with a quick break for dinner). I played with others sometimes, but most of my time was spent alone in my “music room” molding my future fame and glory.

Creator of the universe. Soon after, the youth leader at the church I was attending asked if I would play guitar for the youth. I welcomed the idea eagerly, and began learning CCM worship music, such as “Lord I Lift Your Name On High,” and “Shout to the Lord.” I eventually spent hours writing Christian songs, and began my pursuit of being a full time Christian music artist. With, of course, short breaks for meals.

When I first heard the Gospel and began my walk of discipleship, the focus was on knowing God and growing with God. So my music focused on fostering personal relationships with Jesus – for others and for myself. This was good, but while I was in

It’s the announcement of a Kingdom (and a King) in which all brokenness is healed, a Savior who was pleased to “reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (Col 1:20).

Our band eats a lot of meals together. And then we have seconds, and then when we’re finished we sit at the table and talk some more. We don’t work separately in our enclaves and then break for a meal. The meals are perhaps the most important part. And I think that because of this, we’re beginning to learn what it is to embody the Gospel for which we so heartily worship God.

I’m in Menders because the meals inform the worship – the worship comes out of relationships that break down the racial and cultural divisions that separate the Church and hinder our worship. I’m in Menders for the meals.